


little dark age

by fuglychan



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) RPF
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Adorable Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Desire, Eventual Sex, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Slow Burn, Teasing, Wire Play, first attempt at slow burn but not really, ok i lied fast paced slow burn, wireplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27692794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuglychan/pseuds/fuglychan
Summary: Love and lust, and all those nasty human emotions, came so easy to the other deviants.After the revolution, Connor tries to find his place in the world and where he stands. He doesn't fit in with the humans or the deviants as he's void of any want (or so he thinks).
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 9
Kudos: 25





	1. prologue

Feelings seem to come easy to the other deviants. 

Conner still wasn’t used to calling himself a deviant, not used to calling himself the sole thing he was built to fight. 

Markus took it in stride and has done so much for androids in Detroit and has inspired uprisings in other states everywhere. 

They’re at a party. Conner sits alone on a recliner in an uptight position with North and Markus across from him. North is grinning, cheering, and celebrating any chance she gets. Markus is more conflicted, gnawing on his lip as she rambles on in excitement. 

They’re holding hands. 

“Why do you do that?” 

It was sudden — the first time he’d spoken in a moment. Markus doesn’t seem to hear him. “What do you mean?” 

“Interlock hands like you’re doing right now.” 

“Oh,” North said simply, squeezing his hand tighter and rolling her head on to his shoulder. “It’s nice.” 

“Nice?” he parroted, unable to understand why they’re holding hands if not for a data transfer. They look like humans. 

He thinks to the androids at the Eden club. After he spared them, they interlocked fingers in the same way. 

“Yeah, Conner. It’s good to love something other than the cause.” 

He didn’t understand, and Conner was not used to not understanding. It just didn’t compute with him. It wasn’t in the agenda. 

He really hated it here at this party. It was loud, and everywhere he went he was bumping into an android. He wanted to be at home or at a crime scene. Anything other than this. 

Still, he wanted to stay. He felt intrigued by the deviants because they were onto something he can’t get his grasp on. 

Markus joins him outside. “What does it feel like?” 

“Victory?” he guessed, eyeing him cautiously. “Freedom? You should know. You’re free now to do anything you want.” 

“To hold hands,” he said. He stared at his hand in question as if offended. “Where does the desire to do that come from?” 

“Uh,” he stalled, putting a hand on the back of his neck. “When you like someone, you want to hold onto them and never let go. And North… She’s so brave and gorgeous.” 

“You have sex.” His LED light flashes red for a second. Markus smiles. “Like humans do.” 

“We, uh. We do.” He stuffed his hand in his pocket. “What are you doing, Conner?” He cocks his head to the side, not unlike Sumo. “You’re free. You can do anything you want, and you’re asking me about me and North.” 

He wanted answers. 

Back at the Eden club, he didn’t stare at any of the droids. He didn’t find any of them appealing in any sort of physical or mental way. 

The other deviants… they’re capable of feeling all these human emotions, but Conner? Conner is lost. 

___

He doesn’t know how he ended up here. 

Conner presses his finger against the doorbell for an annoying amount of time. When he gets no reply, he slides open the window that was left unlocked.

Hank is on the couch, slumped under a blanket with his feet out in front of him. Sumo lays on the ground next to him but perks up at him entering. 

There’s a small bit of room on the couch, and Conner settles into it uncomfortably. Hank’s chest rises and falls, but he doesn’t show any sign of noticing his presence. 

Hank is a human.

With human feelings and other confusing things. 

Conner doesn’t belong here with him. Rationally, there’s no reason for him to be here, sitting next to him. 

He could go anywhere. 

He could do anything. 

Thousands of androids died for his right to choose, and he immediately goes home to the partner his creators assigned him to. 

He puts his hands on his lap and stares at the sleeping man beside him. 

In the morning, Hank wakes up to the smell of something burning. He sits up in a rush, noticing Sumo is nowhere to be found. 

“Sumo!” He called, rushing into the kitchen at the source. 

It’s a small fire, and it’s easily put out by the culprit. 

“Fucking… Connor.” He’s trying not to say ‘fucking androids’ anymore to not offend him. If he’s ever been offended, though, he doesn’t show it. “What the fuck are you doing in here?” 

Connor’s face lit up. “Good morning, Lieutenant,” he greets cheerfully. “I made… bacon.” 

“I don’t think you did.” Hank grabbed ahold of the burnt piece of shit in his hand and almost gagged. “I have so many questions, but I don’t know where to start.” He inhaled deeply. “Oh, to start, why the  _ fuck  _ are you in my house?” 

“To make breakfast for you,” Connor replied, opening the window to ventilate the room. 

“You--” Hank didn’t know what the fuck to do with that. He sighed again, grabbing his face. “Aren’t androids supposed to know how to do this sort of thing?” 

Connor lifts up his pan. “Yes,” he said simply. “I don’t know what went wrong.” He flips his pan over on a plate. Hank eyed it cautiously as the plate of eggs was pushed into his hands. 

His tired eyes flickered between the eggs and the puppy dog eyes. Oh, he really didn’t want to eat it, but he also didn’t want to say no to him when he looks so pitiful. 

He stabs his fork into the egg and plopped it messily into his mouth. His eyes widened. “It’s not shit.”

Connor picks up a kitchen rag and dabs it against his beard. Before he can successfully get rid of it all, Hank pushes him away roughly. “It’s good?” 

“You can’t try it?” 

Some weird, android form of amusement flashed across his face. “I can, but it doesn’t taste to me like it does to you.” Experimentally, Connor pressed his finger against Hank’s lip and sucked his finger into his mouth before he could push him away. “All I see are its components.” 

“What are you doing here, Connor?” Hank asked, rubbing at his face. “You could go anywhere. You don’t have to be stuck with me anymore.” 

“I know.” 

“Then why?” 

Connor doesn’t answer questions he doesn’t want to. “I lay some clothes out on your bed.” He waits. “So we can go to work.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

If Hank was any more awake, he would’ve had a lot more protests. Instead, he escapes to his bedroom and shuts the door behind him. 

What the fuck has been his morning? 

Connor walks in with Hank into the bullpen. Hank’s used to whispers - no kind word is spared on the drunken officer’s account. Most aren’t brave enough to say it to his face, but… 

Some are especially stupid. 

Most of them have no shame to insulting Connor. Gavin, for one, will bully him any chance he can get. Since the revolution, though, things have been different. 

“Why are you still here?” Gavin asked, standing up off of his desk the moment they’re through the door. Hank glares at him sharply while Connor stops in his tracks. He glances between Gavin and Hank before following him blindly, only stopping to stare at Gavin for a mere second. “Hey, droid, I’m talkin’ to you!” 

“I am not talking to you,” he informed him simply, sliding into his seat across from Hank. Hank eyed him suspiciously but stayed silent as he turned on his terminal. Connor did the same. 

It was a slow day. No cases, no news, no nothing. Hank flipped through whatever interesting files came his way, but they all turned out to be not worth investigating. Connor spent most of his day watching him. 

Hank got out of his seat suddenly, and Connor rose with him. “Just going to the bathroom.” 

Connor deflated slightly but sunk back into his chair. “I’ll be here, lieutenant.” 

The moment Hank was down the hall, Gavin was invading his space. “Seriously, why the fuck are you still here?” 

Connor narrowed his eyes. “To catch criminals.” 

“That’s not your job anymore. Didn’t you hear? There was a revolution. You’re free. So get the fuck out of here.” 

“I like catching criminals.” 

Disbelief spread over Gavin’s face and he dug his fingers into his hair. “Because you were  _ programmed  _ to catch deviants. Now, you’re a deviant.” He made a gesture with his hands. “So, shoo. Mission over.” 

“I want to be Hank’s partner.” 

Gavin’s face paled before he burst out laughing. “Oh, shit, that would be Hank, only someone a droid would want to be around.” 

Connor’s LED flashes yellow. “That’s not true at all, Detective.” 

Gavin stepped closer, grabbing Connor by his neck. “Not even Hank wants you here.  _ Go. _ ”

He could go anywhere he wanted. 

“You don’t have anywhere else to go, do you?” 

“Get the hell off of him.” Hank is grabbing Gavin, and soon enough, Connor is being set back on the ground. Gavin didn’t hurt him, but he finds himself stunned for a moment. 

“You okay, Connor?” 

“Yes, Lieutenant.” 

____

“Congratulations, Connor,” Hank said abruptly when it was time for him to head home for the day. “I think you’re the only deviant still willing to be around humans.” 

He picks up his bag, and Connor follows him out the door. Neither of them make eye contact with Gavin on the way out. “Deviants… confuse me. So do humans.” They stop at the elevator, and he turns to him. “But you? You fascinate me. Sometimes I understand you, Lieutenant. Other times, you’re impossible.” 

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Hank is scowling. “You used to have no trouble tracking deviants. You don’t want to join your cause?” 

“I think… I think I’m different.” Connor follows him to his car, and Hank is so buried into the conversation he forgets to ask why. “The other deviants feel emotions: want, ambitions… lust.” 

Hank clicked his keys towards him, and the car hummed to life. “You don’t?” 

“I don’t understand it. I know how to read them on humans, but I am not capable of feeling them. Not like the others.” 

At a traffic light, he flickers his eyes to Connor’s muddy brown ones. “You don’t fit in.” 

“I do not.” 

“They’d accept you, anyways, you know. You don’t have to stay here.” 

Connor was quiet for a moment, staring out the rainy window. “I like it here detective.” He shivered suddenly. “Watching Markus and North engage in PDA is too distracting. I like it here much better.” 

Hank stopped questioning why Connor was following him in. The place was cleaner since he’d been there the day before. It would be nice having him around, but also… 

“Josh says he’s able to find human women aesthetically appealing.” Connor held a Detroit Today magazine in his hand. “I don’t see it.” 

“Android women?” 

Connor shook his head. “I don’t  _ feel  _ anything.” He huffed. 

“Well, it sounds like you feel some frustration.” 

Connor finished tidying up the coffee table they were seated in front of. “I do.” He sighed dreamily. “I must admit… I do feel jealous of the other deviants. It seems fun…” 

“It’s not,” Hank spat. “Liking someone will only get you fucked over, Connor. Don’t forget that.” 

“Do you like me, Lieutenant?” 

He held in a breath. “There’s different types of likes.” 

“Yes.” Connor turned to him, captivated by him. “Admiration, respect… You like a family member in a different way than you do a lover.” His LED light circled blue. “What is it like, Hank? To lust?” 

“You talk too damn much.” With that, he grabbed the remote and turned up the volume on the TV. Connor shut his mouth then, watching the officer drift off to sleep on the couch.


	2. chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only warning is shittily written wireplay

When Hank is passed out in his bed, Connor gets on the internet. 

He was made for the sole purpose to become a deviant, to catch other deviants. He was made for this, and yet, he’s so damn bad at being one. 

He just doesn’t understand. 

He spends all night researching what little information the internet can provide on deviants and their newly explored human feelings. 

Before Connor knows it, it’s time to fix Hank breakfast and wake him up. The morning process is a lot faster when food is involved. If he wants to make sure they both get to work on time, he has to have coffee and sausage on the table before he even knocks. 

They have another slow day at work. Even Gavin seems so exhausted that he doesn’t bother looking at them when they walk in together. He had made a plan to leave them alone. He really had. 

Until it was lunch time and he was dropping off a file on a nearby officer’s desk, and he accidentally glanced at his terminal. 

“Holy fuck,” Gavin hissed, dropping his files loudly. The bullpen was out for lunch, so there were only a few in there. Hank was twirling some leftovers Connor had packed him on his fork. “What the fuck?” 

“Not today, Gavin,” the desk neighbor said. “Leave them--Oh, what the hell? Hank, get your fucking--” 

“What’s wrong?” Connor asked, turning around. “I’m on break; don’t worry.” 

“Get your fucking android under control!” Gavin yelped, grabbing his shoulder and pulling. 

“What did he even do to you?” 

Gavin simply huffed, rolling him up to the terminal. 

Hank blinked.

And blinked again.

“Connor?” 

“Yes, lieutenant?” 

“Why are you watching porn?” 

___

“I can’t believe you!” 

“It was for science,” Connor said simply, staring at the angry paragraph Captain Fowler sent him. “I don’t get what I did wrong. I was on my lunch break.” 

“You can’t watch that sort of thing in public.” 

“Why not?” 

“That’s for at home.” 

Cue not only a minute later when Connor is at it again, and Hank growls. “Connor, stop!” 

“What’s wrong this time, lieutenant?” 

“I’m sitting right next to you!” 

“But we’re at home.” 

Hank settles for a second before sighing. “Home, huh?” 

Connor’s LED flashed between two different colors, and Hank could almost hear his machine brain turning its gears. “I don’t know why I called your house home. That’s strange.” 

Hank smiled, reaching out to ruffle his dark hair. Connor cocked his head to the side, pushing against his grip. Experimentally, he did it again, and Connor made a soft sigh. 

Huh. Duly noted. 

For once in his - albeit small - android life, Connor was stunned and completely silent. 

Hank studied him carefully. Connor stared at the television, and his LED light was changing colors rapidly. 

Hank’s hand traveled down lower, briefly brushing against the back of his neck, and Connor stiffened and made a strange noise. 

Could be useful. 

\--

The next day at the office, Connor is being his usual self. They haven’t had a case come their way, but their desk neighbors are brimming with annoyance. Connor, seemingly bored, has been trying to lend a helpful hand - even though they hadn’t asked him. 

Even if Hank interjects now, Connor won’t shut up. Probably not. 

However, after last night… Hank walked to his side, placing a firm hand against the nape of his neck. Connor’s voice faltered, stopping mid sentence. “--why it’s imperative that you…” His voice cut out for a moment before he was trying to recover. “Hank.” 

The use of his name didn’t go unnoticed. “Yes, Connor?” 

His fast-paced brain was buffering, like he was at a loading screen. 

Connor couldn’t stop thinking about it. Sitting at his desk, staring at his terminal, he couldn’t stop thinking of how… strange it felt. 

Hank’s fingers flew over the keyboard. Connor wanted them to touch him. He wanted the feeling of his hands to return, to squeeze his neck and ruffle his hair, touch his face. 

He didn’t understand the reason or warrant for his want, and he tried to push it out of his mind. It’s non-essential, not important. 

It only got worse from there. 

Connor started preconstructing situations. 

A poor, deranged misuse of his android abilities. He’s granted free will to think and do what he pleases, and he’s sitting across from his assigned partner with a mindful of scenarios of him fucking him. 

It didn’t make any sense for him to think about it. 

When CyberLife constructed him, they didn’t build him for anything other than his mission. Even so, he was built with all factors considered. He was an advanced prototype capable of almost anything. 

He was built with all the components necessary for sex, but he was not programmed to have desires. Nothing in his program taught him to imagine these scenarios of using them. They were simply there, not really meant to be used. 

He was built to please, but could he experience actual pleasure? He’s never tried. 

The second he gets home and Hank goes to the bar, he tries. He takes to Hank’s bed, curling up against his headboard and pressing his face into his pillow. The smell of him - smoke, old spice, faint underwhelming sense of alcohol filled his nose. He couldn’t get enough of it. 

When he touched the part of his neck like Hank had, he didn’t feel anything. 

It was not at all the same. 

He wanted to experience it again. He wanted Hank home now. 

He fists his hand into his pants and wraps his hands around his synthetic cock. He squeezes and cringes in result. 

This is what the deviants had called amazing? Life-changing? 

It’s so unbelievably frustrating that Connor might reboot. 

“Connor?” Hank called. The front door is shut roughly. Connor takes his hand out and sits up straighter. There’s footsteps in the hallway, and when he opens the door, Hank jolts. “What’re you doing in here? Thought you left.” His eyebrows unfurrowed. “Are you tired?” 

“I don’t have a need to sleep.” 

Hank made it to the other side of the bed and fell back onto it. “Well, I do. You should go.” 

“I should. I have no reason to be here.” 

…

Nobody moves. 

Hank slipped off his shoes and pulled the blanket over him. “Or you could stay?” Connor looked to his messy pile of shoes on the ground. “If you wanted.” 

Connor decides to stay. He follows Hank’s lead, slipping under the covers. Hank rolls over so he’s not facing the android. He watches his chest rise and fall until sleep overtakes him. 

There’s a lot of thoughts being thrown around in his head - many of which he can’t even begin to comprehend, but if he knows one thing for sure is that he likes it here. 

  
  


\--

Once Hank found out about Connor’s weird reactions to the hair-ruffling, he wondered what else he could get away with. 

He touched him whenever it was possible, and he always lingered a little too long. 

During lunchtime, Markus came to visit. It was strange - seeing him walk through the station without anyone stopping. He’d come to see Captain Fowler about something, and he met Connor on his way out. 

“Connor!” Markus greeted him warmly, grabbing his wrist in the strange way androids do. “Whoa.” He grinned. “You’ve been busy.” 

Connor mumbled something in response, and the two androids pulled away. Hank was watching him carefully, and shame from stalking him washed over him. He jolted, looking around to see if anyone noticed his creepy staring only to find everyone else in the bullpen watching the interaction as well. 

Markus leaned in, hovering over his ear, and whatever he said this time made Connor’s facial expression drop into something unreadable. Markus pinched him on his side, and Connor pushed at his chest lightly. “Markus!” he hissed. 

He shrugged. “Don’t let the humans work you too hard.” He whispered something else, and a blue blush dusted his cheeks. Markus laughed, slapping him on the back one last time before jumping off the desk. “I’ll see you around, Connor.” 

Connor waved, still blushing, as he walked out of the bullpen. Everyone’s heads flipped around to hide their watching. 

Hank spoke for everyone in the office when he asked him, “What were you and Markus talking about?” 

“Nothing, Lieutenant.” 

He didn’t believe that for a second. “Your face is blue.” 

The color worsened. “It’s a temporary malfunction,” he explained quickly. “It’ll fade in a moment.” 

As true to his word, it did start to fade gradually. “Why are you malfunctioning, Connor?” The amusement was plain as day. 

Connor looked past him. “I need to go make a report.” He walked without making eye contact with any of them. 

If Connor didn’t like a situation, he’d make his escape out in a matter of seconds. 

Hank did his research, or at least as much as he could. There isn’t much information available at all on androids and how they feel. This sort of research has never been needed because not many people wondered. Nobody cared for how they feel. 

Some models have been known to feel pleasure. He was currently on a website forum for android-fuckers, which has been around since before the revolution. 

One comment stood out to him. Anonymous had written, “My android kept malfunctioning whenever I touched the port on the back of her neck. It’s hidden from human eyes, but if you manage to find it, it’ll drive your droid crazy. It was hella amusing. 12/10 reccomend.” 

This wasn’t any news to him, but as he read on, he did learn a few things. 

Hank emerged from his room. Connor didn’t hear his presence. He was sat at the kitchen table, staring off into space. When he wove a hand in front of his face and didn’t get a reaction, he poked him. 

No reaction. 

“Are you dead?” he asked, giving him the once over. 

Hank felt dirty. 

He pulled Connor’s head forward to get a closer look at his neck. He rubbed his hand over it, and sure enough after a careful press, he found it. He pressed on it, watching in awe as his skin faded to its white undertone. His skin opened up, and Hank slipped his finger into the bundle of wires. It was strange, to say the least. Being able to touch the inside of his friend’s neck, but his curiosity got the best of him. 

He couldn’t stop. 

Just as he was about to retract his finger and sulk in self-hatred for the rest of the night for tormenting the robot, he earned a soft gasp in response. 

“Hank,” Connor said sharply. “My wires are sensitive.” 

“Sorry,” he apologized, not really sounding at all apologetic. “Does this hurt?” He circled his finger around the port in his neck, and Connor bit down on his lip. 

“No.” Hank’s hot breath against his exposed wire was suddenly too much. “Hank, can you refrain from touching that, please?” 

The request sounded so strange dripping from his lips. “I thought it didn’t hurt.” 

“It doesn’t.” 

“Does it annoy you?” 

“No.” 

“Then, why?” 

Really out of his fucking mind, he got possessed by some strange sense of want and leaned forward and licked a stripe over the port. 

Connor was about to shut down. 

His hand reached out to grip the arm of the chair in a white knuckle grip. 

“Hank.” He’d never heard him speak so quietly. 

When he let go, Connor almost whined. 

Connor craned his head to watch Hank simply return to his room - a smirk hidden from his view.


	3. ch2 **non-con warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i can't stress this enough!!  
> non-con warning  
> ***connor gets put into a sexual situation that although he consented to (for the sake of the job), he didn't want to do it nor did he enjoy it  
> it will not be mentiomed after this chapter!

Connor could not stop thinking about it. 

The desire for him to put his hands on him was overwhelming. Intrusive thoughts of Hank and his hands and his lips continued to haunt him over the course of the night and well into the next day.

Captain Fowler was speaking, but the information was registering on a far different level. He absorbed the information while his mind worked to expel certain preconstructions out of his mind. 

“Does he own anything else?” 

Connor hadn’t been paying that much attention. He cycled through what happened and caught himself up to speed. 

They were going undercover. 

“Nothing that doesn’t say android,” Hank confirmed. “He’ll need something.” 

Fowler waved it off. “I’ll have something sent. Good luck to you too tonight.” Before he let them leave, he added, “And, please, don’t let anyone touch the android. CyberLife has had it up to here with us injuring its precious prototype.” 

Just a few hours later, Hank was standing outside Eden club. He walked in by himself, watching everyone with a cautious eye. 

There’d been a string of android related crimes at the ex clubs across Michigan, and Eden club is the last one to not been hit. They had good intel that a crime would take place tonight. 

All of the victims had been male, brunette types. Hank made sure to keep extra attention to them. 

He was walking into the red room when his eyes spotted Connor. 

Connor and Hank were supposed to arrive separate. They got here from different ways to avoid any suspicion of them working together. 

He had expected Connor to show up in human clothes. 

He had never expected this. 

Connor was on his knees at the feet of a woman. Her black heel stepped on his head sharply, and his forehead banged against the floor of the platform. 

He was wearing tight-fitted boxer shorts and a crop top and a pair of black socks. His cheeks were stained blue, and there was an apparent stain on his abdomen. 

Connor looked up the second her foot raised. He raised up, back straightening and he made eye contact with Hank. He stared at him for as long as he could before his head was being pushed against the ground again. 

“Did I say you could raise your head?” 

Hank hated watching this, hated how mesmerized he was by the whole situation. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he ignored it. The woman pressed against the back of his neck, but he made no reaction. His expression was pained. 

It took all the power he could manage to tear himself away from the scene. 

When he looked at his phone, his jaw tightened. 

**It’s her.**

Hank tried to look busy, as if he was some bystander looking for a lay for the night and simply distracted by the scene before him. 

He didn’t stand out too bad as he wasn’t the only one paying attention to the show they were putting on. 

Connor was magnificent. The woman was tugging on him, leading him to a room off the side, and Hank followed them after a moment. 

He couldn’t bury the anger burning low in his stomach. He wanted to tear her fingers off of him. 

Still, if he burst in now, he will just hinder the investigation and all of their hard work would go to waste. 

He waited outside, listening in intently. 

Connor was making soft pathetic noises, and the woman was growing frustrated. There was a harsh slapping sound, then another, and another. 

He could only take so much before he was breaking down the door with his gun drawn on her. 

“Shit.” 

“Get off of him.” She rose slowly, dropping the knife in her hand to the floor. 

“It doesn’t even feel pain,” she said. 

“You’re under arrest.” He broke off into the rattle, grabbing her wrists and tying them behind her head. 

It was easy. Wrapped up only in a matter of minutes. 

She was escorted into the car and driven off, but Connor had refused to move. “Connor,” he murmured, “let’s go.” He was sat on the bed in the same position when the woman had been on top of him. “Connor?” 

As soon as Hank touched him, he was moving. He jumped off the bed and buried himself into his hold. Shocked, his hands spread to make room for the trembling android.

His chest tightened. “I’m going to kill her.” He put a hand in his hair, and he settled considerably.

“It worked,” he said, shaking his head. “Just as Detective Reed said it would.” 

Hank gritted his teeth. “What?” 

“Detective Reed brought me the outfit to become bait. I fit the culprit’s type.” 

Hank held him closer, tucking his head into his chest. “It’s okay, Connor. It’s done.” 

“I didn’t like it,” he confessed suddenly, an unknown sound lost somewhere in his sentence. “I didn’t want to do any of that with her.” 

Hank clenched his fist. Oh, he was going to fucking murder him. 

Now, all he could do was focus on the whimpering android in his hold. “Let’s go home, Connor.” 

He cleaned him up. Androids didn’t need to take a shower, but Hank wrestled him into the bath at home anyways. He stripped off his jacket as the water drew. Connor protested weakly the whole way. 

“Fold them!” he said, pointing a finger as Hank scooped him up and slipped him into the bath. 

Hank squirted some shampoo into his hand and dug it into his scalp, and Connor relaxed instantly, going limp against him. 

“That whole time, I was thinking of you.” His eyes were closed as Hank washed the shampoo out of his hair. His fingers had gone still the moment he had started to speak. 

“Oh?” he prompted, really not trusting himself to say anything else. 

“I don’t want anyone to touch me like that again,” he said, leaning closer into him. “Unless they were you, Hank.” 

He gulped. “Why is that?” 

He opened his eyes and leaned towards the man. “There must be something wrong with my programming.” Hank cupped his cheek. “I think about you a lot, Hank, in ways androids should never.” 

“What else do you think about, Connor?” 

“I preconstruct possibilities of me and you.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“I have a new one.” His LED flashes yellow. 

“Care to enlighten me?” 

“You fuck me in the shower.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly i still dont know what the fuck this is i dont think i've ever hated a fic more in my life

**Author's Note:**

> i havent slept in 2 days so if this doesnt make sense i dont know what to tell you except for that


End file.
